Getting out
by AllieCam
Summary: My take on what happened after Grissom's speech to Lurie in Butterflied. Ch 11: Grissom's back in Frisco with news for Sara. Final Chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't not own anything related to CSI. If I did, we might actually have seen what happened when Grissom and Sara finally got together!

Spoilers: Season 4. Butterflied, mostly.

This is my take on what could have happened after Grissom's little speech in the interrogation room to Dr. Lurie.

Please enjoy! And review…

* * *

'It's over', she thought, as she stared through the glass partition at the man with the bowed head.

He hadn't moved since the officer had ushered the suspect out into the corridor. She couldn't see his eyes and she certainly didn't know what he was thinking. His face gave nothing away.

She was grateful that she was alone in the observation room, and that if happened to look her way he would only see a mirror. She was positive that her feelings were written plainly on her face.

"I couldn't do it."

Suddenly, she had to get out. She was conscious of an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia, and her only clear thought was that he should never know. She couldn't let him know that she had overheard him. Throwing one last glance at her boss, she pulled open the door and hurried out. She felt trapped, and she needed to get some fresh air.

Just as she reached the doors that let to the parking lot, she heard Nick call her name. She turned and watched as he came towards her.

"Have you seen Grissom?" he asked.

She wanted to laugh wildly. What a question. Had she seem Grissom? Of course she had seem him! She had heard him pouring his heart out to a murderer, telling him things that he should have said to her long ago…

But she didn't say any of those things. She wouldn't give a voice to any of those thoughts that were whirling around her brain and making it impossible for her to think rationally.

Instead, she pretended to think about his question, and eventually replied: "Yeah, a while ago. I think he said that he was going to interrogate a suspect."

She had spoken calmly, but Nick's eyes went over her deathly pale face and her unusually bright eyes. "Are you ok, Sara?…you look sort of…"

She forced herself to laugh, and cut across him. "I'm fine, Nick. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

He could well believe it, but he looked at her somewhat doubtfully. Then his eye was caught by the appearance of someone else on the corridor.

"Oh. There's Grissom." he called after his boss, "Hey, Griss!"

Sara smiled at Nick and swiftly made her escape.

* * *

Grissom regarded the brunette's retreating back. He hadn't spoken to her in days; he just couldn't have. The case had been too important to him, and he couldn't have dealt with seeing her. Still, it was strange that she was leaving now. Although the shift had ended, Sara normally stayed late to finish off cases or to look over cold cases. Maybe…

But his train of thought was interrupted when Nick began to ask him for advice on a case. He rubbed his face tiredly and prepared himself to give an opinion.

* * *

Out in the lot, Sara sat on the hood of her car with her legs crossed like a Native American. She had her cell phone in one hand and was absentmindedly rubbing it up and down her thigh. She was staring at the pavement without really seeing it, replaying his words over and over in her mind…

"I couldn't do it."

What did he mean? What did he mean? But in her heart, she knew the answer: it meant the end.

She had known him for ten years, worked with him for four, been in love with him for God knows how long, but now it was all over. There was only one thing left to do. She had wasted four years of her life and she wasn't going to waste any more. She took a deep breath and started to dial…

* * *

She was still sitting on the hood of her Tahoe twenty minutes later, when Grissom came out. She didn't notice him at first, but when he called her name she jumped up as if she had been stung.

She looked rather embarrassed, but before she could speak, he said: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you ok?"

She blinked. 'I must look like crap,' she thought, 'he only ever asks me how I am when I look terrible.'

But she smiled and replied quietly: "I'm fine."

They stood looking at each other for a moment and, for once, Sara's over-talking didn't kick-in. Now that she had made her decision, she didn't feel inclined to rush in and break the silence. Eventually he spoke again:

"I'd thought you'd left."

"No, no. I was just taking a break. I hope that you're going home though. I know that you haven't had much sleep the past few days."

He looked surprised, but for once she didn't blush at the realisation that she had basically told him that she had been checking up on him. She felt tired and sad, but calm as well. It was as if nothing could touch her anymore.

"Yes, I'm just on my way out."

"So you're finished with the case, then?" she knew he was, but she just wanted to see what he'd say.

He inclined his head in answer to her question. It was clear that he didn't feel like talking.

"He's guilty as sin." she commented, "Why did he do it?"

His eyes snapped to hers sharply, but her face gave nothing away. "It's all in my report, Sara. Goodnight."

He turned away from her and thought he heard a little sigh before she said "Goodnight."

Sara Sidle watched him thoughtfully as he approached his car. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost jumped out of her skin when her cell phone rang. She answered it quickly: "Sidle."

She listened for a moment before replying: "Thank you for getting back to me at such short notice…." "Yes, I'm available whenever you need me."

She was suddenly horribly aware that Grissom had paused in the act of getting into his car and was now listening. 'I can't let him hear this', she thought.

"Can I call you later and we can sort out the details?"

"Great, I'll talk to you then. Goodbye."

Without turning around to look at her boss, she shut her cell phone and called out: "'Night, Grissom." before heading into the lab.

'How did she know I was listening?' he wondered, as he climbed into his car and drove away.

* * *

Inside the lab, Sara watched his car pull out. 'That's the last time I'll ever see him.'

But she had no time for such musings and she quickly got to work.

She cleared her locker into her sports bag and locked it shut. The she swiftly mad her way to her boss' office. It was still open because Catherine had told her the she needed some files and would lock up later. She pushed open the door and pulled out an envelope from her pocket. She laid it on his desk- the black typed letters staring up at her: **Dr. Gil Grissom**.

She'd been carrying it around with her for a while, too scared to give it to him, always hoping that if she stuck around he's show her that he did feel something for her. Tonight she had discovered that she was wrong. The placed her ID tag, her locker key, her pager and her lad-issue cell phone beside the letter. Then she exited the office and carefully shut the door.

Grissom had the next shift off and hopefully he wouldn't get her letter of resignation for 48 hours. That would give her plenty of time to clear out her apartment (she'd never really unpacked) and get on a plane to San Francisco.

Yes, with any luck she wouldn't have to see him again.

She couldn't say goodbye to anyone, because she knew that they'd call Grissom. So she said goodnight to Warrick, Catherine and Greg, and surprised Nick by giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He looked at her in surprise.

"Rough day," she explained, "Goodnight." And she quickly left the layout room.

In the lot she paused and turned to say a silent goodbye to the lab that been her home for the last four years. But she didn't look back as her Tahoe pulled out and headed home.

* * *

AN: what do you think? Any good? Please review- it's my first CSI fanfic and I'd love to know how I did! I have another part- should I post it?? 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. The characters don't belong to me, and neither does anything CSI related….except for the DVDs of the first two series (those are most definitely mine!).

Spoilers: Same as chapter 1.

AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I got so many that I decided to update today. I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much as the last one. Please let me know what you think!

* * *

It was bright outside when Sara heard a knock at the door. She had only been home a couple of hours and already someone was…someone was what? She never had any visitors; so who the hell was at her door? Out of curiosity, she rose to her feet and made her way to the door.

Looking through the spy-hole, she was surprised to see Catherine Willows. What on earth was she doing here? Sara was just as much surprised by her presence, as by the fact that her colleague knew where she lived. The older woman looked faintly irritated at been kept waiting, and she raised her hand to knock on the door again. Sighing, Sara pulled it open.

The red-head's eyes went over her appraisingly. "Sara, you look terrible."

She folded her arms over her chest. "Hello to you too Catherine." As she watched the other CSI walk into her apartment, without waiting for an invitation, Sara thanked her lucky stars that she hadn't started packing yet.

"Well, was there something that you wanted?"

Catherine opened her purse and pulled something out. It was…oh, no. I was her letter to Grissom.

Sara's face paled slightly as the realization struck her, but she didn't move a muscle. If her unwelcome guest was disappointed with her lack of emotion, she didn't show it. She just stood there waiting for the brunette to say something. She knew Sara Sidle pretty well by now, and she was sure that she was very pissed off.

But when she spoke, she took Catherine by surprise. "Was there anything else, Cath?"

Her hand itched to slap the brunette's face. To do something, _anything_ to stop her speaking in that calm voice. Despite her resolve to keep her temper, she could hear her voice starting to rise.

"What the fuck do you mean: '_is there anything else_'?" she mimicked, "you were going to leave without saying a word to anyone. You are so fucking selfish!"

Sara felt the anger begin to rise up in her, and before she could stop it, she was yelling too: "What the hell do you care? You'll have the lab back, that's what you've always wanted! Don't go all emotional on me now- we've barely spoken to each other since you decided I couldn't do my job properly. Since I couldn't find Eddie's killer." suddenly, she stopped. "I'm so sorry Cath…I didn't mean…maybe you should go."

Catherine was horrified by what she had said, but she also caught the sadness in Sara's voice. She couldn't leave her alone now, so she brushed off her harsh words, and tried a different tack: "What were you hoping to achieve with all this?" She asked, waving the letter.

Sara almost replied: 'My freedom', before she realised how corny and practised that sounded. She said instead: "I felt it was time for a change. I got offered a job tonight and I couldn't turn it down…" she looked down at her folded arms, suddenly feeling exhausted, when she raised her eyes to Cath's at last, all pretence was gone: they were pleading and brimming with tears, "I'm tired, Cath. I'm really tired…I'm tired of Vegas, I'm tired of trying to fit in, and I'm tired of pretending…"

She seemed to realized that she had said too much. To cover her embarrassment she sank down onto the sofa. There was silence, and Catherine suddenly didn't feel mad anymore. But Sara wouldn't look at her; she stared fixedly at the floor.

"Are you going to tell Grissom?" she asked in a hollow voice.

The red-head sat down beside her. "No, no. I won't. I promise."

"Thank you." Sara whispered, and quite without warning, the tears began to fall.

Catherine took her hand and sat in silence as her colleague cried herself out. A little later, when Sara's sobs had subsided, Cath felt that she might be up to answering some questions.

"Why now? Why not before?" she asked.

"Because he's shut me out for the last time."

Catherine didn't even pretend not to know who she meant. She was in a delicate position. She had seen for herself Grissom's reaction to Debbie Marlin's body and as her friend, she owed him her loyalty. However, it was clear that Sara was in pain, and that if she didn't get some answers soon she would self-destruct. She settled for something in the middle: "Well, you know how private he is…" she began, and at the look in Sara's eyes she paused. The younger CSI deserved the truth. "He cares about you."

Sara stood up and replied wearily: "I know. He just thinks that I'm not worth the risk."

Catherine was so surprised that she didn't even bother to ask how she had gleaned this insight.

"Now," she continued, "I'd like you to go, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell Grissom about my leaving," she walked to the door and opened it, "And I am sorry about Eddie, Cath."

The other woman looked at her with tears in her eyes: "I know you are. And I'm sorry too." She surprised them both by giving the brunette a quick hug, "I'll miss you, Sara." then she walked out the door.

Sara smiled faintly as she shut it after her.

"No you won't." she said into the silence.

* * *

AN: I do, in fact, have another chapter written. However, I'm not sure if I should post it, or if I should leave it as is. If anyone would like to see Grissom's reaction to the news, please let me know and I'll update as soon as I can! 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers: Once again, nothing that belongs to CSI belongs to me….if you catch my drift…

AN: I'm so sorry that I didn't update sooner. (I've had a lot on). I hope you enjoy this chapter- if you don't, please let me know how I can improve. And if you do- then please let me know! I just love reading your reviews.

By the way, thank you to everyone who reviewed and gave me encouragement- I loved reading all of your comments.

Enjoy!

* * *

Las Vegas Crime Lab: 40 hours later.

When Gil Grissom entered the lab long before his shift was due to begin. He wanted to get started early today- he needed to make up some hours.

The time off had done him good. The Debbie Marlin case had pushed him to his limits. He had pulled a triple shift (something that he very rarely did) and definitely needed to recuperate. He had also needed to get away from Sara. As if he could ever do that. It didn't matter how hard he fought it- her face was with him wherever he went.

He pushed open the door to his office, turned on the light- and immediately sensed that something was different. On top of his usual pile of files were a pager, a cell phone, a key and some sort of card. With a feeling of dread, he crossed the floor to his desk.

They were Sara's. Sara's pager, Sara's cell, Sara's locker key and Sara's Las Vegas Crime Lab ID. Beneath them was a letter addressed to 'Dr. Gil Gr.issom'. He slit open the envelope and pulled out a single typed sheet. His eyes went immediately to the end, and he recognised the bold signature: Sara Sidle.

As he read the formal, impersonal words of the letter his eyes darkened with anger. She apologised for her unexpected departure, said that she had been honoured to work at the Las Vegas Crime Lab, but felt that it was time to move on, and she even expressed the hope that the night shift would find a replacement as soon as possible. That was it.

No explanation. Nothing.

She had written to him as if he were just her boss- which he was….but still, it was so unlike Sara. Normally she wanted to talk, but he wouldn't let her. She was always there when he needed her. And now, she had just left without a word. How dare she walk out on the lab?, he thought furiously. How dare she walk out on him. He picked up the office phone, determined to call her and give her a piece of his mind.

He dialled her cell first, and her business-like message only inflamed his anger. He slammed down the receiver- and then realised that her cell phone was sitting on his desk. Feeling slightly foolish, he picked up to phone again, this time dialling her apartment.

It rang off. He tried again, but there was no answer. The fourth time, someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Sara?" he asked in confusion. I didn't sound like Sara.

"No, this is Sara's landlady. Who's speaking?"

"This is Dr. Grissom with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'd like to speak to Sara please." he said as calmly as he could.

"Oh. Dr. Grissom. Sara said that you might call. She moved out yesterday morning. I'm just getting the apartment ready for the new tenant."

Grissom felt a sense of rising panic. "Did she say where she was going?"

"I'm afraid not," the woman answered apologetically, "It was all very unexpected…"

But Grissom wasn't listening. He was thinking hard- where could Sara have gone? He cut across the woman without apology:

"Thank you very much for your help. I hope I didn't disturb you."

She said that it was no trouble at all, and they rang off.

* * *

What to do now? He had no idea where she had gone, and no one to call and ask where she was. For the first time, Grissom realised how very little her really knew about Sara: where were her parents? did she have any siblings? what did she do when she left work? Perhaps it was because he valued his privacy so much, that he had never questioned her unwillingness to volunteer information about herself and her past. But now….

There was a knock at the door. Before he could yell that he was busy, Catherine walked in. She shut the door behind her, and without a word sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

"So, have you found out where's she's gone yet?"

Grissom stared at her in surprise, and then quite without warning, the anger burst forth.

"You _knew_ she was leaving- why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"I promised her I wouldn't, and I usually keep my promises." she said calmly.

"You don't even _care_," he yelled furiously, "why didn't you say something? What does it matter that-" he stopped as she rose to her feet angrily.

"Don't tell me that I don't care, Gil- because I do. Apparently more than you do!" He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued, "I have watched as you pushed her further and further away. You treated her worse than Ecklie treats those lab tecs. Is it so bad that she was in love with you? Did you have to drive her away to some guy who treated her like shit?" she went on, "You brought her here under very difficult circumstances. It was your responsibility to look after her. But you just ignored her. If anyone's to blame- it's you. You didn't care."

Grissom knew that everything she was saying was true. He had forced himself to believe that she wasn't in love with him, that it was just a crush, that she'd get over it. He saw now how wrong he was. He just couldn't understand why she had decided to leave now.

"I just have one question, Gil," he looked across at her and inclined his head, a silent invitation to her to continue, "why did she say that you think she's not worth the risk?"

A look of a absolute horror crossed his face, and he sank into his chair. She had heard. She must have been in the observation room; Brass would never have said anything. So, that was why she had left. She knew. Of course he had seen her afterwards, talking to Nick at the door, and then she had walked away rather than speak to him.

With blinding clarity, he saw what he had done. He had pushed her away to protect himself from being hurt, but he had only succeeded in hurting her. He had kept her around, even when she had wanted to leave. And after she'd asked him out, just after the explosion in the lab, he'd said no. Then, when she'd tried to move on, he had punished her for it. He really had made life hell for her- Catherine was right; he had brought her to Vegas only to make her miserable.

No wonder she had left without a word. She had probably been afraid that he would send her another plant.. But how had she known that the Debbie Marlin case had affected him? Why did she decide to listen to his interview with the suspect? He had purposely kept Sara away from the crime scene, from the photos, and the body…

He looked up, Catherine was still there: standing in front of him, waiting.

"When did Sara see Debbie's body?"

Cath sat down again. "I was going over the autopsy report with Doc Robbins. She followed me down."

"Cath, why didn't you tell me?" he could only imagine how disturbing it must have been for Sara to see a lifeless version of herself stretched out on a slab.

"I didn't tell you, because there was nothing to tell." she responded, "She didn't react. I wasn't sure if she saw the resemblance, or not. She just listened to Robbin's report, asked who the suspects were, and left." a faint smile crossed her face, "If you ask me she's been spending too much time with you. She's gotten too good at concealing with she thinks."

He smiled too, but bitterly: they hadn't spent any time together- not that she hadn't wanted too, he had just made sure that they didn't. In fact, he couldn't remember the last case that they had worked on together.

Cath went on: "The other night, when you interviewed Lurie, you left your office open for me." he nodded, "After Sara left I went in with some files, and I saw her stuff and the letter. I knew straight away what it meant. I went over to her apartment straight away. She didn't even react when I told her I knew she was leaving. She just asked me not to tell you…." she paused for a moment, "what did the letter say?"

He passed it to her silently and waited until she had read it through. When she had finished, he was surprised to hear her say: "You have to admit: she's certainly got class."

Suddenly Grissom spoke: "She said nothing about a reference, she'll need one to get another job."

Catherine shook her head. "You don't understand. She's already got another job lined up- and before you ask me where: I don't know. That's why I said she's got class. Her letter makes it very clear that she doesn't want anything from you."

He blinked. Catherine had a disconcerting habit of hitting the nail on the head. That was exactly what Sara was telling him.

He had told Lurie that he wouldn't allow her to be part of his personal life. She was telling him that she wouldn't allow him to have any control over her professional life. She didn't need his reference to get a job, and she didn't need his permission to quit. She had left without both, and robbed him of any control he had over her.

As realisation dawned, he looked at Catherine who was regarding him with a sympathetic gaze.

Grissom could feel a migraine forming behind his eyes.

* * *

AN: Well, what does anybody think? Too improbable? I wasn't sure about Grissom in this chapter- what are your thoughts? Thanks for reacding, and I really hope that you enjoyed it!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, if I did we wouldn't have been cheated out of how Sara and Grissom got together!

Spoilers: Series 1-4. Mostly Butterflied.

AN: Sorry for the delay in updating. I promise to have the story finished soon. (I keep starting one, and then starting another, and another, and not finishing the first ones!).

Thanks so much to all of you who gave me feed-back and told me that you liked the story, and to keep going. I really appreciate it!

So, this chapter is dedicated to all of you who reviewed and encouraged me.

Thank you.

Enjoy!

* * *

Four months later

How he got through the long moths he would never know.

In the beginning, he'd made discreet enquires about her: a word to colleague in another Crime Lab across the country, an email to a professor he knew in a well known college. But all to know avail.

For a while it seemed to Gil Grissom that Sara Sidle had disappeared off the map. His pride wouldn't allow him to openly ask around: to actually look for her. To admit that he was lost without her. Sometimes, he would see Catherine looking at him while he was reading in the break room or perusing a file in his office. She always seemed like she wanted to say something. But she never did. For some reason, the woman who always had to know everything about the people she worked with didn't want to ask him how he was dealing with the loss of Sara Sidle. Perhaps she realised how difficult it was for him.

Whatever the reason, she said nothing and made sure that the rest of the team didn't say anything either. And for that he was grateful.

* * *

One evening in July, almost four months after Sara had left without saying a word, the Director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab called Grissom into his office.

"Gil, I've been wanting to talk to you for sometime," Cavallo began. Dr. Grissom regarded him with us usual impassive expression.

"I've noticed that you've been clocking up a lot of overtime in the last few months."

Grissom inclined his head, as though admitting the veracity of the statement while signalling his confusion at the subject being broached by the Director.

Cavallo cleared his throat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Anyway, I suggest that you take a few days off. Have a bit of a break."

"I don't need time off." Grissom responded flatly. It was unheard of that the Director of a Crime Lab would try to prevent the Heads of the Shifts from doing more work. There was always a backlog of cases, and the Lab needed as many workaholics as it could get. Sara had been a case in point.

"You've worked every night this week," his boss flipped through a file on his desk, "and last week, and the week before…" he trailed off and looked up at his employee, "Health and Safety requires all employees to take a certain amount of leave. Gil, it's a stressful job," his tone became one of concern, "I don't want you to burn out."

"Look, I don't need any time off. We have a backlog of cases- the night shift won't run itself."

Cavallo shut the folder before him. "I didn't want to do this Gil, but I am _ordering_ you, as your boss, to take a week's leave. You're burning out, and you need some rest. I'll put CSI Willows in charge of the lab. She's more than capable of dealing with the case load."

There was nothing Grissom could say. He left the office in silence.

Outwardly calm, but inwardly raging, he reached his office and shut himself inside. What right had Cavallo to take away his work? They needed him here at the lab- it was as simple as that.

And Gil Grissom tried to ignore the very small voice, hidden deep under the layers of armour, self-delusion and anger, that asked what he was going to do when he was on his own, away from the distractions of the lab. How he was going to cope when he was all alone, with nothing to occupy himself but thoughts of Sara, feelings of remorse for how he had treated her when she'd been in Vegas, and a terrible gnawing longing in his gut.

* * *

AN: I promise that there'll be more action in the next chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought! 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- Getting out.

Disclaimer: If I owned them, do you seriously think I'd be writing fanfics about them? I didn't think so.

I got the idea for this chapter from one of the great reviews I received (thank you to each and everyone one of you who got in touch and let me know what you thought- I really appreciate it.

**El Gringo Loco** suggested that the person that Grissom talks to about his problem should be from outside the lab. (I had already decided to continue with the fic without such a conversation, but this seemed like such a good idea that I had to do it!).

I'm afraid that I altered it slightly, but still, my thanks to **El Gringo Loco** for the idea: I dedicate this chapter to you!

Please enjoy! And let me know what you think!

* * *

Day One

His entire townhouse was spotless. His extensive library was re-catalogued. All of the emails that he had been putting off writing had been despatched. His bills were paid.

And it was at 7.30pm that Dr. Gil Grissom realised that he was in real trouble.

There was literally nothing left for him to do. How would he survive another six days?

He poured himself the last of the scotch and relaxed on the couch. Perhaps a little Mozart would make him feel better.

No such luck.

He turned up the volume with the remote control and tried again.

It wasn't working.

Frustrated, he stopped the disc abruptly, and heard what he hadn't been able to with the blaring music on: knocking.

Someone was at the door.

Catherine, probably.

Now there was someone he didn't want to talk to right now. He didn't think he could bear her sympathetic gaze, her well-meant advice and her readiness to talk about his feelings. He considered her a friend, but there were times when she bewildered him with her openness. He supposed that it would be rude not to answer the door to her, since she had obviously heard the music, and wearily made his way to the front door.

To his surprise, standing on the threshold was not Catherine Willows, but Detective Jim Brass.

He was holding a bottle of scotch, and wore a strange expression: as if he were not sure how Grissom would take his appearance at his home.

"Gil," he said, as if he was in the habit of calling over to his colleague's house every free night he had, "I was just passing, and I thought I'd see how you're doing."

Grissom smiled faintly. He had heard. It was nice to see that the rumour mill at the Crime Lab was still functioning in his absence.

"I'm fine." he said in an even tone.

"Now why don't I believe you?" Brass responded. He paused for a moment before adding: "Can I come in for a minute? I brought you a present." He indicated to the bottle in his hand.

And Grissom, recollecting that he had just run out of scotch, stood aside to let him in.

They made their way to the living room and Grissom poured the drinks.

As his host handed him a full glass, Brass remarked, "You don't look great. I don't think gardening-leave suits you."

"Gardening-leave?" Gil seated himself in an arm chair and took a sip of his drink.

"Sure. I mean, if it was up to you, you'd still be working your tail off 24/7."

Grissom just looked at him. "I love my work."

Brass greeted this remark with a somewhat amused smile. "I thought you'd be bored out of your skull with nothing to do for a week."

"I have some things I've got to catch up on." the other man responded somewhat vaguely.

The Detective nodded understandingly, and for a while a silence fell. Brass seemed to be turning something over in his mind. Finally he spoke:

"Well, if you're looking for something to do, I hear San Francisco is lovely this time of year."

"San Francisco?" Grissom regarded him with something akin to disbelief in his eyes. Had Brass really come over to recommend holiday destinations?

"Sure. Why not? They just opened a new natural history museum there and I hear the roller coasters are great."

Gil laughed. He was sure now that the other man was joking: "Even with all those attractions, I think I'm going to stay put in Vegas."

Brass drained his glass and looked directly at Grissom: "You know, San Francisco does have another attraction that might interest you," his host put up his brows inquiringly, "Sara Sidle."

It was probably due to force of habit that Grissom didn't react. But he didn't feel as calm as his exterior suggested, and he certainly didn't feel up to talking right now.

His visitor got to his feet. If Grissom's reaction had surprised him, he gave no indication.

"She's working at the Crime Lab there- on the day shift," Grissom raised his head at that, "I guess she's finally ready to have a normal job." Jim said with gentle humour.

Gil said nothing, but finished his drink and poured himself another one.

"You know, Gil, I've never been able to understand why the two of you didn't just get together. I mean, you're the perfect couple: you're both scientists, loners, workaholics. I never understood it until that day in the interrogation room."

Grissom raised his eyes to his, as if willing him to stop, but Brass went on regardless:

"I could see the similarities in the case- a blind man could. But what I couldn't see was why you thought that Sara would ever act like Debbie Marlin. You as good as told Lurie that you couldn't take a risk with Sara because she'd break your heart, but all you've done is broken hers."

Suddenly Grissom spoke unexpectedly: "She was there, you know. She heard everything."

Brass nodded, "That explains it. I wondered why she left so suddenly."

His voice was low and strained: "So you understand why I can't go to her… not after that. What could I possibly say to her?"

"No. I don't understand. Gil, you're a fool," Jim's voice rose impatiently, "She's been in love with you since she arrived in Vegas- possibly before that. Who knows? You're in love with her. You have to tell her how you feel. You owe her that much, at least."

"She won't want to see me."

"How do you know?" he challenged, "Now, for God's sake: book a flight. Get on a plane. Talk to Sara. And put the rest of us out of our Goddamn misery! You must know that you've been unbearable to work with these past few months."

AN: And there we have it! Of course, it would take someone as cool as Jim Brass to give Grissom a good kick (in the right direction, of course!). Please review, and let me know what you think (as always, suggestions are welcome!).

* * *

Also, I am aware that Brass is an alcoholic. I am not, however, sure that he doesn't drink occasionally. (If he doesn't, I'm sorry for adding that in- I hate inaccuracies!). That's all. 

The next chapter will be about Sara.

Review- it makes me write faster!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing concerning CSI- is it fair to keep reminding me?

This chapter is from Sara's point of view. It explains a few things, and sets things up for the _next_ chapter. I can hardly believe that this started as a one-shot!

Enjoy!

* * *

Sara Sidle said a smiling 'good morning' to the receptionist, and made her way to her office.

It was strange to think that she now had her own office, and even stranger to think that she was happier than she had been in months. Maybe years.

She had the same feeling that she'd experienced in those first weeks at the Las Vegas Crime Lab: the excitement of a new city, a new lab and new cases. She remembered what it had been like. But even better than all of that excitement had been the tingling anticipation of seeing Grissom again. Her new colleagues hadn't made her feel welcome, and had seemed to go out of their way to show her that she was an outsider. But this didn't seem to matter because Grissom had brought her there.

Then all her hopes turned to dust as she realised that he really had just asked her to come to Vegas to help out in the lab, and not, as she had previously thought, because he wanted her there.

His distance had left her bewildered, and later made her angry. She'd lashed out. At him. At herself. Not understanding what he wanted. Disgusted at herself for wanting him.

And then he had made everything clear. Not to her, of course, he was incapable of that, but to a murder suspect.

She supposed that he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't have been worn out from pulling a triple shift. But she wasn't sorry: it was impossible to be sorry now that she knew. She had been so afraid that it was her fault; that something was wrong with her- that she was unworthy of being loved. Now she understood that he just wasn't ready, and that perhaps he never would be.

When she'd announced her unexpected departure from the San Francisco Crime Lab, to take up the job in Vegas, her boss had tried to tempt her to stay with the offer of a promotion. She'd refused, but Dr. Kerry had insisted that the offer still stood. He'd been sorry to see one of his best CSIs leave, and promised Sara if she ever wanted to come back, there'd be a position waiting for her- no questions asked.

And that was how she'd ended up Head of the Day Shift.

She loved it. She might be as ill suited to office politics as Grissom, but she was a quick study. In any case, the occupation of the Director back in Vegas had seemed to maintain (and if possible surpass) the Lab's status as number two in the country. Things in Frisco were a bit more relaxed.

But it didn't mean that there was a smaller case load, she thought wryly to herself, pulling the small stack of cards towards her that would occupy the day shift.

Sara checked her watch: the shift had officially started. Banishing thoughts of Grissom and Vegas, she made her way to the break room to hand out the assignments to her team.

* * *

AN: Well, was that enough explaining?? I promise the next chapter will be better- I just wanted to show how Sara got where she is, and what her state is.

Lots of conflict in the next chapter!!

Please review and let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Once again- they're not mine. Don't sue!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed- I love hearing what you think!

This chapter is the connecting chapter between the connecting chapter and the conflict chapter (if that made any sense!).

Enjoy!

Just an ordinary day in Frisco….or is it?

* * *

In the break room, Supervisor Sara Sidle was handing out assignments.

"Kate, I want you to take this B and E- it looks like a fairly open and shut case, but we need someone down there to check for signs of forced entry. After you're done with that, I have an attempted kidnapping case that the Swing Shift was working on- they need an extra pair of hands, and I thought you might like to see how they operate."

The young woman smiled at her boss gratefully. She'd only become a CSI two months ago, and had been delighted to find a job at the San Francisco Crime Lab. Her initial nervousness had dissipated as soon as she met her new boss- Sara Sidle was passionate about what she did, and it rubbed off on everyone else.

Kate knew from gossip in the lab, that her Supervisor had left her previous job very suddenly. That, and the fact that she had never managed a team before, had given a lot of people at the Lab cause for concern. But their fears proved to be unfounded- she was a friendly, understanding boss, a tireless worker and the best CSI at the lab.

Sara had learned her lesson from her time with Grissom: she knew what it was like to be shut out, and she wasn't about to make the same mistakes with her team.

"…and that leaves Adam," she turned towards the tall man seated on her left, "You have a suspected homicide out in Westbrooke. If anyone finishes early, you can go and join Adam."

She rose to her feet, and headed to the door.

"And what are you going to be doing, Sara?" Adam asked her, surprised that she wasn't going to join him at the crime scene, like she usually did: they made a great team.

She grimaced in reply: "Paperwork!"

* * *

Back in her office, Sara began to fill in the request forms for materials for her team. She now understood why Grissom had hated paperwork so much. But, it was part of her job, and being the youngest Supervisor in Frisco, she had something to prove- she just wished it didn't involve pushing so much paper.

It was a short time later that she felt a presence at the open door of her office. She later assumed that it had been his footsteps that had alerted her to his approach, but when she raised her head from the stacks of papers in front of her, all she saw was someone leaning against the door jamb with folded arms, gazing at her over his glasses.

"Grissom."

She didn't realise that in her shock she had spoken his name aloud, until he responded in kind.

"Sara- or should I say: Supervisor Sidle?"

With an effort, she pulled herself together and rose to her feet: "What are you doing here?"

* * *

He arrived at the lab halfway through her shift.

The flight and the drive from the airport had worn him out. He wasn't even sure what he was doing there. All he knew was that when Brass left him, he had finished the bottle of scotch. After that, things became unclear. But when six hours later when he awoke with a pounding headache, he knew what he had to do.

Booking a flight, calling a cab and arranging for a rental car in San Francisco had been relatively painless. The hard part would be seeing Sara.

He introduced himself to the woman at the desk and explained the situation.

"I'd like to see CSI Sidle, please." he noticed a confused look on the woman's face, "I don't know if she'd out on a case or…"

"No, it's not that…," she began, "it's just that we don't have a CSI Sidle on our staff…" then her brow cleared, "unless you're talking about _Supervisor_ Sidle?"

"Supervisor?" he echoed doubtfully.

"Yes, Supervisor Sara Sidle- she's in her office at the moment but I don't think she'll want to be disturbed."

"Why's that?" he asked somewhat curiously.

The receptionist leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially: "Paperwork!"

He laughed to oblige her, but he knew it sounded hollow- his stomach was tying itself up in knots.

"I haven't seen her in a while, and I'm only in town for the day…"

She couldn't resist the hopeful note in his voice: "Sure, go ahead. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see an old friend."

He almost flinched at the word, but then he supposed that he really was old in comparison to Sara. However, he was certainly not a friend.

He followed her directions: walking down a long, silent, somewhat stark corridor, and, at last, finding himself at her office.

The door was open, and he couldn't resist settling himself against the door frame to watch her.

Her desk was almost obscured by stacks of files and papers. She was bent over a file, her brow slightly furrowed, as it always did when she was concentrating hard.

He didn't make a sound.

But quite suddenly, for no apparently reason, she looked up sharply in the direction of the door and saw him.

For a second, the astonishment showed plainly on her face.

"Grissom." she breathed.

And in that second he could have sworn that she was happy to see him.

Then she rose to her feet.

* * *

AN: Well, I know I promised conflict, but I thought that I'd leave you hanging! Please let me know what you thought (and if there are any insults you'd like Sara to hurl at Grissom's head- I'd love to hear them!) 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: None of it's mine, and at this rate, it never will be.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter- I really love finding out what you guys think!

And now, because I promised...

Conflict, conflict, conflict!

* * *

"_What are you doing here?" _

Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strange- like she was struggling to force her words through dry lips.

"I might ask you the same question." his voice was expressionless, as always, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

There was a pause, and since she didn't speak, he went on: "I came to see you." he said it as if it were the simplest, most natural thing in the world.

But it wasn't. They both knew that.

She could feel all her hard-won calm and self-possession slipping away. She grasped at it desperately, but it was useless.

In her mind, she was back in Vegas, trying to decode his puzzling remarks that could mean so little or so much.

"That's nice." she said tightly. With an effort she spoke again: "Please come in, and sit down. How have you been keeping?"

They faced each other across her desk.

He was as unreadable as ever. "I got some time off. Cavallo seems to think I'm in danger of burning out."

She had no idea what to say.

He changed the subject. "Congratulations on your promotion, by the way. I'm surprised that you didn't just tell me that you were offered the job." He was watching her closely.

"It was a great opportunity." she replied. In her letter to him she hadn't explained why she'd left. She wasn't about to do it now.

He didn't appear surprised at her answer: it was as if he had been expecting it.

"Why didn't you let me know that you were leaving?"

She was beginning to feel desperate. Since when did Grissom want to talk to her about whys? The only things he was interested in finding out about was cases.

She wasn't oblivious to the irony of the situation: she couldn't count the number of times that she had appeared at the door of Grissom's office looking for answers, and the number of times she had received brush-offs. Now the roles were reversed. But Grissom looked a lot calmer than she had ever been.

"Look, Grissom, I don't want to talk about this," she answered defensively, "Why are you even here?"

"I want you to come back to Vegas- I want you to come home."

He sounded sincere, but Sara didn't want sincerity: it was too late for all that.

She laughed, a mirthless, unpleasant laugh.

"You want me to come _home_? You want me to go back to Vegas?" her tone was harsh, "I'm surprised you didn't just send me another _plant_." She practically spat the word. "Please leave." She stood up.

He looked startled. "Sara-"

"Don't you 'Sara' _me_!" her eyes were blazing she couldn't help it, she was furious. How dare he turn up, jut when she was beginning to feel settled and happy. When she was finally beginning to get over him. When she'd finally managed to move on. "Just get _out_."

He was on his feet. "Sara, I came all the way here to talk to you."

"_Talk_? You want to _talk_? When have you ever wanted to talk to me? When have you ever been anything but cold and distant to me? Why is it, Grissom, that you're suddenly turning up out of the blue because you want to _talk_?"

If he hadn't been so exhausted, he probably would never have lost his temper. It was something he seldom did, but when he lost it, it was a sight to behold.

"Sara, I want to know what the hell you're doing here. I came back to work, after taking some time off to recover from a triple shift. And what did I find? A note on my desk telling me that you had left work, and disappeared I don't know where! And you didn't even call to let me know you were ok! Did it ever occur to you that I might be worried? Anything could have happened to you!"

She cut across him angrily: "You were worried? That's rich! When have you ever been worried enough about me to _talk_ to me? To _me_, Grissom, not some psychotic murderer…" she trailed off and dropped her eyes.

She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to say anything about that night, but now it was out there, hanging thickly in the air between them.

He didn't answer, and when she couldn't take the silence anymore, she looked up at him. The anger had died out of his eyes, and he didn't seem surprised.

"You knew I was there." she said flatly. It was hard to believe that even Grissom could have been so insensitive as to confess to Lurie when he knew that she was in the observation room. But then, he always had the power to surprise her.

He shook he head, as though he had guessed her thought. "Catherine said something that made me think you were there."

"Oh." She had no idea what to say.

"I want you to come back to Vegas, Sara." he said it quietly, and sincerely. And it broke her heart.

"Grissom, I'm sorry," she said softly, "but I just can't."

"Why not?" he sounded almost like a little child, and it took everything she had not to reach out to him. But she couldn't. Not now.

"Look, Grissom, I moved to Vegas once for you before. And I wasn't happy," her voice was low, but he could hear every word she was saying, "I can't go back- I'm sorry. I'm finally happy here. I've finally moved on, and I won't go back there. Not for you. Not again."

He didn't answer, and his face was shuttered up again.

"I'm sorry." She repeated gently.

He spoke at last, and there was resignation in his voice. "I'm glad that you're happy, Sara. I hope that it lasts." He made his way to the door, "It was nice seeing you."

She nodded mutely.

On the threshold he turned back, and gave her that smile that crinkled up his eyes: that rare smile, that never failed to quicken her pulse.

"And congratulations on the new job, Sara."

And then he was gone.

I'll never see him again, she thought, as she sank down into her chair before her legs gave out. And she wondered why she didn't feel relieved, why the thought left her cold.

* * *

AN: Well, what did you think? I was worried that Grissom might be a bit out of character, but I think that it is reasonable for him to be mad at Sara for leaving. Anyway, please tell me if you like it! 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

I want to thank everyone for their reviews (it's what I live for!). I'm glad that you guys like the story so far: here is the next chapter.

Enjoy! And I promise that the next one will be longer.

* * *

Gil Grissom thanked God that his enforced period of leave was over: every evening, when he clocked on, and every morning, when he clocked off.

Nothing had changed since the week he'd been off. He was still putting in as much over-time possible, and doing everything he could to keep from thinking about Sara.

He was still in hell.

He wished he hadn't gone to see her. Uncertainty was better than this horrible feeling: this crushing rejection.

He could still see her- sitting at her desk. Looking at him in shock. Glaring at him as she expressed her anger. Pleading with him to forgive her and accept her decision.

At night he dreamed that she was sitting in his office, in his chair. Cheerfully filling out her paperwork and studiously ignoring him. And no matter what he did, he couldn't get her to look at him- to acknowledge his presence; to notice him standing in the doorway.

For once, he was sure that he knew how she had felt all of those years in Vegas: she had tried to get through to him, and he had coldly ignored her. He remembered his cruel rejection of her dinner invitation.

Work was his salvation.

It kept him busy. It kept him away from his apartment and his thoughts.

But it also filled him with longing for her. He saw Sara everywhere- in the corridors, the break-room, even in his office.

He knew he was distracted, and he was aware that his team had noticed, as Cavallo probably had. He wondered, without any real curiosity, how long it would be before his boss forced him to more time off. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Pulling a case file towards him, he slipped on his glasses and began to read.

A knock on the open door brought his head up sharply, and eager look glimmered in his blue eyes.

It was Brass.

Damn it.

Grissom had managed to avoid him so far. And with the passing of ever day, he came to hope that perhaps Brass might forget about it, and wouldn't mention it again. From the look on the cop's face, he was clearly about to bring up the very subject he wanted to avoid.

In a desperate attempt to head him off, he spoke irritably: "Jim, I'm busy at the moment."

The other man's response was to enter the office and shut the door behind him.

"It won't take long, Gil." he responded calmly.

* * *

AN: I know that the chapter was a little (lot) short, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Please let me know what you thought (and what you think is going to happen- to give me ideas, because I'm not sure myself!). Thanks! 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: not mine- more's the pity!

I didn't realise that my last chapter suggested any impending doom- sorry! it was all unintentional. Anyway...

Jim to the rescue! Ah Brass, could he be any cooler?

Here's the next thrilling instalment! Let me know what you think!

* * *

"What do you want, Brass?" Gil's tone was resigned: it was probably better to get it over with, rather than fighting him. 

"I want to talk about your trip to San Francisco." he replied, seating himself on the chair across from the CSI, while he spoke.

"And how do you know I even went to San Francisco?" he asked expressionlessly.

The cop smiled faintly: "The same way I knew Sara was there. I don't know why everyone forgets that I used to have your job. Over the years I'm made more contacts than I care to remember- it's just a case of calling in a few favours."

Grissom silently acknowledged the truth of his statement.

"Anyway, I thought I'd ask you what you said- even though I already know how it went."

"I doubt that very much." Gil responded acidly.

His laugh was dry: "Wanna bet? You're back here, working more hours and in a worse mood than before you went on leave. Am I supposed to assume that you and Sara have worked everything out, decided to get married and have lots of geeky children?"

Grissom's rubbing of his tired eyes showed more clearly than anything that Brass had hit a sore spot.

"I asked her to come back to Vegas with me." he said tonelessly.

Jim sighed and shook his head wearily: "I thought it might have been that." There was a pause, "I suppose she threw you out?"

He looked at his friend sharply: "How did you guess that?"

It was too much for Brass: he threw back his head and gave way to his mirth.

Grissom's face darkened like a thunder cloud at the other man's laughter. He couldn't see anything remotely funny about the situation.

He started furiously: "Look, Jim, I'm busy and-"

"No, no. Don't be so touchy, Gil! Relax. Just let me ask you something: did you explain what you meant by all that stuff you said to Lurie?"

He shook his head.

"Did you tell her that you missed her like crazy?"

Again he shook his head.

"Did you tell her that you're in love with her?"

For a third time, he slowly shook his head: realisation was dawning.

"So, just to be clear: you showed up, out of the blue, to ask her to come back to work in Vegas?"

"Yes." he responded so quietly that Brass had to strain his ears to hear him.

"And what happened after you asked her?"

He sighed: "She got angry and asked me to leave. Then I got angry. And then she told me that she couldn't go back to Vegas for me, because she'd done it once before."

"Right. So why didn't you mention _why_ you wanted her back?"

Grissom rubbed a hand tiredly across his face: "Because she said that she was happy for the first time in a long while."

"And you don't think she could be happy with you?"

He gave Brass a look that told him everything he needed to know.

"So, you decided to leave her alone. Why couldn't you just tell her the truth?"

There was a long silence, as for a while Brass didn't think he was going to answer.

But he did.

"Because I love her." he muttered almost inaudibly.

Jim groaned: "And why couldn't you just tell her that? That's usually what women in love like to hear from the object of their affections."

Looking into Brass' eyes, Dr. Gil Grissom suddenly began to feel very foolish.

* * *

AN: Well, was that ok? I know Brass seems to be doing all the leg-work, but Grissom is a bit oblivious when it comes to _feelings_ and all that! 

Please let me know what you thought!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: not mine (why must I keep saying it?)

So…will what will happen to our beloved geeks? Will Grissom finally get his act together? Will Sara forgive him? You're about to find out….

Enjoy!

* * *

Once again, Gil Grissom made his way down that corridor. His steps beat out the rhythm of his heart: Thud. Thud. Thud. His stomach was churning with dread, but somewhere, deep down, was an emotion he hadn't felt for a long time: hope. He tried to ignore its presence, but he couldn't: it was there, and it was what propelled him down the corridor, towards Sara's office.

The door was open, but he noticed immediately that she wasn't there. Pushing aside his disappointment, he entered the office, closed over the door and sat in her chair. There was something welcoming about her office, he decided, as he relaxed, leaned back in her chair and waited.

* * *

"I left my cell in my office, Adam, just let me grab it, and make a call; then I'll meet you out in the lot."

The other CSI nodded, and made his way out of the break-room and towards the doors of the Lab.

Sara headed to her office, shaking her head at her absentmindedness. She never forgot her cell, or her pager, or her keys. She was organised: it was strange that she'd forgotten it today. Still, recently she'd been distracted. She supposed that it had something to do with Grissom's unexpected visit. Ever since he'd appeared in her office, she'd been having trouble concentrating.

She realised now that she'd only been fooling herself. She missed Grissom like hell. And she loved him as much as ever.

Her door was slightly ajar. She was sure that she hadn't left it like that. When she pushed it open she started with shock.

Grissom.

It was strange to see how at home he looked in her office, at her desk, leaning back in her chair, with his eyes closed….a faint chuckle escaped her.

He was asleep.

Gil Grissom had flown all the way from Vegas to take a nap in her office chair.

It was too ridiculous.

For once, she had the opportunity to study his face without him being aware of it. He looked exhausted. Sara felt a pang of remorse: maybe he _was_ burning out and maybe the day that he'd shown up at her office he'd needed someone to talk to.

She approached the desk as quietly as she could and picked up her cell.

He needed to sleep. Whatever he had wanted to talk about could wait until later. But when she stepped away from the desk, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye: he'd woken up.

"Hey." She said softly.

"Sara." he breathed sleepily.

He's still half asleep, she thought as she walked round the desk and bent down to see his face better.

"Are you ok, Grissom?"

He smiled, and it lit up his entire face: "I am now."

She tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

He stood up.

"Grissom, what are you doing sleeping in my office?" she asked with a laugh in her voice.

He grinned sheepishly, "I didn't mean to fall asleep, but I had an early flight this morning."

"You look tired." she remarked, "but I meant: what are you doing _here_- in my office; in San Francisco."

"I came to see you, Sara."

"Why?"

He was silent for a moment, and for a second she thought that he was going to avoid the question. But he answered calmly: "I was wondering if there were any openings for an entomologist at the lab."

"Lab? _This_ lab?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "I've been thinking: I decided that maybe, if you want, instead of moving back, we could move forward."

"Forward?" She couldn't hide the hope in her eyes.

"Forward," he said firmly, "I love you, you know."

Her mouth was dry. She licked her lips. "I didn't actually."

"Well, now you do." he responded matter-of-factly.

"That's good news," she whispered shakily as she raised her hands and placed them tentatively on his shoulders, "because I love you too."

His hands stole around her waist, and pulled her closer. "I'm sorry for everything, Sara."

"I know."

She leaned forward and brushed his lips with her own, softly at first and then, as he responded she slid her tongue into his mouth. His arms tightened around her as he drank her in. One of them moaned, she couldn't tell who. All she knew was that he was finally there, that she was finally kissing him, and that she was lost.

* * *

Tired of waiting in the parking lot, Adam went in search of Sara.

When he reached her office, he was shocked by what he saw: his boss and some man, wrapped around each other, and kissing as if they were discovering each other for the first time.

He silently exited the room and shut the door soundlessly behind him. It was about time that Sara Sidle had a man in her life, and he was certainly not the only one to think so. However, it was probably something that didn't need to be advertised to the rest of the lab.

The happy couple needed their privacy. He left them to it.

* * *

AN: Well, what do you think? I hope that you've enjoyed the story- I've certainly enjoyed writing it. Thank you all so much for the reviews- they rocked, and you guys rock for sending them! This fic started as a oneshot an, thanks to you guys, it grew.

I plan to keep writing CSI fics (GSR forever!), but I have to finish my NCIS and House one's first!

Thank you for the encouragement.

Please let me know what you think of the ending.

Too sappy??


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